


P.S. I Love You

by Supergirlx55



Category: Cobra Kai (Web Series), Karate Kid (Movies)
Genre: Also: great butt A+, Bobby Brown will literally turn you gay, Bobby actually is a saint in this, Brief depiction of canon violence (Kreese at All Valley), Deals with Johnny's tournament trauma, Dutch knew where to score weed even in middle school, Happy Ending, Homophobic Language, Implied/referenced domestic abuse (Sid), Internalized Homophobia, Johnny is not a saint in this, M/M, Period Typical Attitudes, Puppy Love, Sorry Tommy your fake ID sucks, Teen Angst, The world needs more of this pairing, We all love you Bobby Brown, just a confused and angry kid
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-12-29
Updated: 2021-02-28
Packaged: 2021-03-10 16:35:13
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 9
Words: 14,425
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/28360245
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Supergirlx55/pseuds/Supergirlx55
Summary: What's the point of a letter, if you never send it?A story in which Johnny tries to deal with his feelings by writing them down and hiding them in a shoebox under his bed... but, shockingly, this doesn't work quite the way he thought it would.
Relationships: Bobby Brown/Johnny Lawrence
Comments: 49
Kudos: 52





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

  * For [Rynnsama](https://archiveofourown.org/users/Rynnsama/gifts).



> **Author's note 1:** Happy (very belated) Birthday, Rynn! I hope you enjoy this as much as I enjoyed writing it. I don't really know you yet, but I'm really glad to be part of the quiver with you and everyone else on Discord.
> 
>  **Author's note 2:** And Merry Christmas to all the lovely Bobby/Johnny shippers out there! <3

Johnny Lawrence was not good with words.

When Johnny was about eight years old, he had asked his mom one time why his father left. What was it about Johnny that drove him away? Was he ever coming back? Did he know how much it hurt, how lonely it was, not having him around? She hadn't had an answer for him. But she'd smiled at him, in that soft yet blisteringly radiant way of hers, and said that she knew what would make him feel better. Then she told him to write a letter.

At eight years old Johnny hadn't known how to put his feelings into words just yet. But he had tried his damndest, pouring all of himself onto the page, working his pencil down to the quick. And when he was finished, his mother took him out to the pier and together they had dropped the letter in the ocean, the low tide carrying it off, along with all of Johnny's anger and hurt.

And he remembered feeling lighter, at least for a little while.

Johnny Lawrence wasn't good with words. But he knew how to write letters. Even short ones, just notes really, were still better than keeping all those messy and confusing thoughts bottled up inside.

* * *

The next time Johnny tried writing one was when he was thirteen years old:

> _Dear Bobby Brown,_
> 
> _I'm_ _really jealous_ _of how high you can kick. Can't believe you just joined our class & your already a BLUE BELT _
> 
> _SO UNFAIR!!! _
> 
> _It took me months to get to blue. Also I think your a suck-up. I don't care what Sensei says!! I'm gonna get better than you you'll see! Your just lucky _
> 
> _Also your hair is_ _stupid __& you suck _
> 
> _I hope you fall in a ditch._
> 
> _Sincerely,  
>  Johnny from karate _

He wasn't quite sure why he'd signed his name, if he was never going to send it. He also wasn't sure why he didn't throw the letter in the ocean like you were supposed to, or burn it, or rip it up... or even crumple it and toss it in the trash.

Instead, Johnny stuck it in a shoebox with an old pair of sneakers he didn't wear anymore, shoved the shoebox under his bed, and forgot about it.

* * *

Bobby wasn't a bad guy, really. Sure, Johnny had hated him at first, mostly out of petty jealousy; but Bobby wasn't even mad about it. He thought it was pretty funny, actually, and not in a mean way. It was kinda hard to keep hating a guy like Bobby, who stubbornly refused to hate you back.

What should have been a rivalry soon became friendly banter, dumb jokes, horsing around. Before Johnny had even made a conscious decision about it, he and Bobby Brown were friends.

There were other guys from the dojo that Johnny got on with, of course. There was Tommy, the loudmouth, and Dutch, the bruiser, and a little while later this kid named Jimmy joined the class who was kinda quiet and not really as good at karate as the rest of them, but they all felt a bit bad for him, so they let him tag along.

The five of them would hang out together: go to the arcade, try to sneak into R-rated movies, scope out girls at the beach. Dutch actually knew where to score some dope, so sometimes they'd just get high and do dumb shit like toss things off the overpass onto the 101, or have contests to see who could fart the loudest. One time they all got kicked out of the library for making rude noises during the screening of a documentary film about homo erectus.

It was all pretty amazing, as far as Johnny was concerned. Finally having a real group of friends felt great, and karate was great for bringing them all together, and these four dudes were going to be his _absolute best friends_ for the rest of his life, Johnny could tell.

But out of the four of them, for some reason he liked Bobby the best. He couldn't really tell you what it was about him; something just felt... right between them. Like Bobby understood him, better than anyone else ever had. Like Bobby could never be mad at him, would never judge him, no matter what. Like Johnny could tell Bobby anything.

Or, almost anything.

* * *

About a year and a half later, after Johnny had just turned fifteen, he wrote Bobby another letter:

> _Dear Bobby,_
> 
> _I guess I really like you. I mean like I really REALLY like you. Maybe a little too much?? How much is normal for a dude to like another dude anyway??_
> 
> _I know you know we're bros but it's more than that. You're my_ _BEST FRIEND man. I don't think I'll ever have another friend like you. You just GET ME.... you know? _
> 
> _You probably do know. Or maybe you don't. Maybe you have no idea what I'm talking about. I know I can be kind of an asshole & I'm sure you like Jimmy way more than me (I can tell cuz you're always standing so close to him & you 2 always talk about nerdy shit that I'm not really into like books & junk & _ _that's fine_ _you can be best friends with whoever you wanna be)_
> 
> _I mean I get it. I know I can be annoying & I like you way too much (like waaaaaaaay too much) & I'm sorry & it's fine & you seriously don't have to like me as much as I like you _
> 
> _I just wanted to tell you I guess. I mean not tell you. You know what I mean. I think this pen is running out of ink so I'm gonna stop writing now._
> 
> _Sincerely,  
>  Johnny _

He dug the shoebox out from under his bed, and resisted the weird urge to reread the first letter that was in it. He vaguely remembered it being about how jealous he'd been when Bobby had first joined Cobra Kai, and maybe something about his hair being stupid? It didn't matter, really.

He couldn't recall why he had decided to keep it back then, but it seemed only logical to save the second one along with it. Besides... this one felt way too personal to just throw it out.

It was fine, though. He'd put it in the shoebox, and he'd hide the shoebox under his bed again, along with all of his stupid insecurities.

And maybe Johnny would feel lighter. At least for a little while.

* * *

  
  
  


**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Just a teaser for you guys... but don't worry, there's lots more to come! I'll be taking a small break to let everyone focus on Season 3, and then I'll post more. 
> 
> In the meantime, please let me know what you think so far! ^_^


	2. Chapter 2

**Notes for the Chapter:**

>  **Author's note:** The photo of Johnny and Bobby training is © William Zabka and was sourced from his Instagram.  
> 

A week after writing the second letter, Ali Mills, this chick that Johnny had been super into and had asked out about a billion times, finally agreed to go on a date with him. And soon after that, Johnny and Ali were going steady.

Johnny was in love — completely and utterly smitten — and all of a sudden, having a girlfriend seemed like the only thing that mattered. Of course, he was still all about karate (Cobra Kai for life, man), and he still spent most of his free time with his best friends when he wasn't with Ali; but he'd forgotten all about his weird obsession over whether or not he was Bobby's closest friend. They were Cobra Kai, which meant that they were brothers till the bitter end — and Johnny felt like he should be able to trust that.

And Ali was great. Still... there were certain things that Johnny didn't really feel comfortable discussing, even with her. He could confide in _Bobby_ about anything, of course. But some shit was just too weird and embarrassing to talk about, you know?

So he got out his pen and paper, and he wrote another letter:

> _Dear Bobby,_
> 
> _I gotta be honest I'm pretty nervous about the tournament this year. Like_ _really __nervous. I know we've all done it before but Sensei said he thinks I have a real shot this year..... like not to just place but to actually WIN IT you know???_
> 
> _ & that's _ _so much pressure_ _. Dude you have no idea!! I mean, what if I'm not as good as he thinks I am?? What if I lose and he gets pissed and kicks me off the team??? You know how intense he gets. Remember that time that Jenkins forgot to take his shoes off & got mud on the mats so Sensei Kreese made him run laps around the entire block?? _
> 
> _He's really counting on me too. I feel like he'd kill me if I lost this tournament._
> 
>   
> _I just wanna say_ _I_ _really appreciate_ _you helping me train though. You're the best Bobby. & I think you have a pretty good shot at the title too. Man, imagine if we BOTH got to the finals & had to fight _ _each other_ _? That'd be pretty wild!!!_

He drew a little doodle of himself and Bobby squaring off... but it looked stupid, so Johnny scribbled it out. It was a cool thought, though.

> _Anyway......_
> 
> _I don't remember if I told you this or not but your body's looking great lately. Good job man!! I know I've got more muscle definition than you but I'm actually kinda jealous of how strong & solid you are. You're like a brick house dude. & you've got really nice pecs too. But your skin just looks insanely smooth.... almost like you're one of those statues in a museum you know? _
> 
> _What I'm saying is you look really good with your shirt off basically_
> 
> _But like not in like a gay way._
> 
> _ OBVIOUSLY _
> 
> _You know what I mean. Like just in a "bro giving another bro a compliment" way. Cuz it's true. & you deserve to feel good about yourself Bobby. I know how you get insecure sometimes. & I know Sensei can be pretty tough on us & it makes you doubt yourself — but you shouldn't!! If anyone in our whole class deserves to feel proud of themselves it's you man! _
> 
> _Also: I mean it you look hot. If I was a chick I would be all over you_
> 
> _You know what I mean_
> 
> _Not in a gay way._
> 
> _Okay this is getting weird & I should probably stop writing. I just wanna say I believe in you & you're gonna do great! (And I hope I do too!!!) _
> 
> _Love,_   
>  _Johnny_

Then he scribbled out the "Love" and changed it to "Sincerely," because... yeah, that was starting to sound _really_ gay, actually.

Johnny felt a little uneasy about the fact that he'd devoted nearly an entire page to talking about Bobby's body like that. It was just really hard not to notice it when you trained with the guy; he'd take off his shirt and _BAM!_ it was right in your face. And he really did look damn good, too. Johnny hadn't been lying when he said he was a little jealous, actually.

He considered destroying the letter, but somehow that thought seemed even more damning. As if it would be _proof_ that Johnny had something to be ashamed of.

Which he didn't. He had a girlfriend, so obviously he wasn't _like that._ Plus, it's not as if Bobby would ever read what he'd written. They were just thoughts. Everyone had weird thoughts sometimes.

He stuck the letter in the shoebox and the shoebox back under his bed, and he put it out of his mind.

* * *

Later Johnny found a photo that Jimmy had snapped of him training with Bobby one time. In this one Johnny was the one with his shirt off, and he couldn't help but wonder whether Bobby thought that he looked good, too. Not in a gay way, obviously. Just in a "bro giving another bro a compliment" way.

He sat and stared at it for a long time, trying to decipher Bobby's expression in the picture; but it was just a crappy Polaroid and the lighting was all wrong, obscuring most of Bobby's face. Eventually, the only way to stop obsessing over it was for Johnny to stick the photo in the shoebox along with the letters, and shove the shoebox as far under his bed as it could possibly go.

Still, after that Johnny couldn't stop feeling paranoid that his stepfather might find the box and read the letters. Out of context, that last one seemed pretty incriminating; and Sid wouldn't exactly take lightly to that sort of thing. He might try to beat it out of him. Or maybe he'd skip that part and go straight to kicking Johnny out of house. Or worst of all, he could try sending him to one of those pray-away-the-gay places Johnny had heard about.

Whatever his reaction might be, it wouldn't be anything good.

Of course, this wasn't exactly a rational fear. The shoebox was pretty well hidden, and that piece of shit would have to climb all the way under Johnny's bed to find it. But Johnny's worries were never limited by rationality when it came to Sid.

Either way, keeping the box in his room didn't really feel like a good idea anymore. After debating getting rid of it... Johnny decided that he should just stash it in his locker instead. Plus, with it being _right there_ — every time he had a nagging thought that just wouldn't leave him alone, Johnny could simply write it down and put it in the box.

* * *

And so he did.

They were just thoughts, and having weird thoughts sometimes was normal, it didn't really have to mean anything. Once he'd decided that it was (probably) okay, Johnny had started noticing little things about Bobby more and more. He would roll the thought around in his mind for a little while, and then he'd write it down and put it in the box so he could forget about it.

> _Dear Bobby,_   
>  _Did you know that your eyes are really blue? They remind me of the ocean _

> _Dear Bobby,_   
>  _How is your hair so thick & shiny? It's kind of amazing. I bet it's soft, too. I'd really like to just run my fingers through it _

> _Dear Bobby,_   
>  _You're really smart. Like insanely smart. But it's pretty rad that you're athletic & totally not a nerd. I bet you're smart enough to be a doctor or something _

He wasn't signing his name to any of these, because they were all very short, just quick scribbles on a scrap of paper. But also because Johnny was a little bit worried that one of them might fall out of his pocket and someone else would find it and read it.

It's not like Johnny was thinking about Bobby all the time or anything. Mostly he would spend his time thinking about Ali. She was clever, and fierce, and smoking hot... and honestly, even though Johnny was good-looking and popular, he still felt super lucky to ever get with a babe like that.

But he and Ali fought all the time, too. She was pretty opinionated, and she didn't always like what she saw in Johnny. Sometimes she thought Johnny was a complete jerk. Occasionally she would even give him a hard time about karate, and that was just bullshit.

They had a lot of great moments, times when Johnny felt like Ali was pretty much the love of his life; but they also got into a lot of petty arguments over nothing. They even sort of broke up and got back together a couple of times.

It was exhausting. Sometimes Johnny just wanted to think about something (or someone) else for a change.

> _Dear Bobby,_   
>  _I love your smile. It's so..... I don't know....... but it makes me feel happy just seeing it_

> _Dear Bobby,_   
>  _You're a dork.... but you're also kinda the coolest guy I know. Wish I could be as cool as you_

> _Dear Bobby,_   
>  _It's really weird how good your butt looks in gym shorts_

> _Dear Bobby,_   
>  _I had a dream that we made out. I bet you're a pretty good kisser. Your lips look really soft and stuff...._

He actually tore up that last one, because even though Johnny couldn't control what he dreamed about, it still felt _super gay_ to just admit it like that.

But then he couldn't stop thinking about that stupid dream. So he grabbed another piece of paper, wrote the same thing down again, and put the note in the shoebox with the others.

* * *

  
  
  


**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Ended up posting this a bit sooner than I thought I would. I hope you guys are enjoying the ride, because this pairing definitely needs more love! 
> 
> Thanks for reading, please let me know what you think so far! <3


	3. Chapter 3

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Boy, there is some crazy, scary sh*t going on in America right now. _Sheesh._ Oh well, have some cute teenage fumbling to help take your mind off it. 
> 
> At least for a little while. ;)

Johnny really did win the tournament that year, just like Sensei had predicted — which was kind of amazing, actually. It was Johnny's first championship win, and it felt incredible.

Ali still didn't like it when Johnny "got too aggressive" outside of competition (like every time he would see some jerkwad hitting on her and threaten to kick his ass); but other than that, she was becoming more supportive, even getting kind of into it. Secretly, Johnny suspected that she liked to see him showing off.

For Valentine's Day she got him this awesome karate headband, and he was wearing it all the time now, because he knew he looked damn good in it. Even the guys thought so. Especially Bobby — whose opinion, for some reason, mattered most of all.

Even though they still fought a lot, Johnny and Ali were madly in love. They were going to be together forever, probably get married, maybe have kids. Someday they might get old and boring; but they'd still have each other, and they'd still be in love. And Johnny would keep doing karate — maybe he'd even be a sensei one day. And he would have his best friends by his side through it all, thick and thin.

Sometimes Johnny worried that he was going to screw it all up somehow, ruin everything. Most of the time he felt pretty confident, but it was hard not to have those nagging doubts every once in a while. But that's when Johnny was _really glad_ he had a friend like Bobby.

Because if anyone could get him through the worst of it — calm him down when he was pissed off about another dumb fight with Ali, reassure him when he was anxious about letting down Sensei Kreese, or even just listen patiently, whenever Johnny needed to blow off steam about what an asshole his stepdad was... If there was anybody who could do all those things and more, it was Bobby Brown.

And then there were the notes.

For the most part, Johnny didn't really think about it. That was the whole point: he'd write something down, put it in the shoebox, and forget it — until the next time he felt the need to write one.

A lot of times he didn't have a chance to get to his locker right away, especially if he didn't want the guys around; so Johnny would carry the notes in his pocket, sometimes even forget them there for a day or two. And sometimes he'd walk by Bobby's locker and wonder what might happen if he slipped a couple of them inside.

He hadn't signed his name on any of them, and he doubted Bobby could recognize his handwriting, so he would probably just end up thinking he had a secret admirer. Johnny wasn't really sure how to feel about that.

Mostly, the thought made him weirdly uncomfortable. His ears got all hot, and it felt like there was a lump in the pit of his stomach, which reminded him a lot of being jealous. (It was pretty close to how Johnny felt any time he saw Ali talking to some other guy.) That didn't make any sense, though, because first of all: Johnny didn't like Bobby that way. And second of all: the secret admirer wasn't even a real person. It was all in Johnny's head. There was literally no one to be jealous of.

Occasionally, there was an annoying voice in the back of his mind that would say dumb shit like: **_You're_ ** _the secret admirer,_ or _You should just confess and get it over with._ But that was pretty stupid, so Johnny ignored it.

If he really needed to shut the voice up, he would just find Ali and make out with her, which usually did the trick. And if Ali wasn't around, well, he could always just write another note.

* * *

That summer, without Johnny having regular access to his locker and the shoebox, had felt a bit overwhelming. He tried his best to put all that stuff out of his mind, though, and focus on Ali and on having fun with the guys. It was freaking _California_ , man; there was a lot of pretty awesome shit to do in the summer, obviously.

And he still had Cobra Kai: Sensei Kreese wasn't about to go easy on him just because Johnny had won his first tournament (quite the opposite, actually). So that helped, too.

Still, by the time September rolled around Johnny was _itching_ to start writing to Bobby again. He never thought he'd be this happy to walk back into school after summer vacation.

He was back to writing notes immediately, and it was a huge relief, because Johnny had a lot of thoughts about Bobby that he needed to express. Like, _a lot_ of thoughts. Too many thoughts. It was getting to be a bit too much — more than Johnny could just scribble down in a few sentences — so a couple months later he sat down and he wrote Bobby another proper letter:

> _Dear Bobby,_
> 
> _Are you thinking about college yet? I know it's kinda soon but...... what if we went to the same school? Don't you think that would be BADASS?? We could join a frat together & do keg stands & beer pong & pantie raids & all that other rad shit you see in movies. I bet you'd look great in a toga (& you know I would!! haha!!) _
> 
> _You could help me study cuz I think we both know you're way smarter than me. & I could help you scope out hot college babes. I know you know what a great wingman I am _
> 
> _By the way I saw you flirting with Becky Swanson from algebra the other day. You thinking about asking her out? She's pretty okay I guess, but trust me dude you can do better. You're one of the hottest guys at this school and you don't even know it._
> 
> _Speaking of algebra I can't believe how Mr. Fig just yelled at you in front of the whole class for forgetting your textbook last week. That's BS man you don't deserve that. But that guy is kind of an asshole. Did I tell you 1 time he said I should of been held back??_
> 
> _I think maybe he's right though..... Like I said I'm kinda dumb especially compared to you. Sometimes I feel like a real degenerate. Kinda like that stupid joke Tommy always makes. I dunno man. Maybe by senior year I'll actually get my act together........._
> 
> _Okay this is getting kinda long I think I better go. I love you man!_
> 
> _Sincerely,  
>  Johnny _
> 
> _P.S. I hope you plan on putting in some extra time training for the tournament this year. I_ _REALLY WANT TO FIGHT YOU FOR THE TITLE!! Admit it that would be pretty awesome!!! _

That one had gotten a little maudlin near the end, there; but he knew the real life Bobby would never judge him for that, and imaginary Bobby certainly wouldn't either.

For a crazy moment Johnny briefly considered actually sending it. But even though the stuff he had written wasn't nearly as incriminating this time, it still felt pretty weird to be thinking about Bobby _this much_ — and Bobby could easily draw all sorts of conclusions from that.

It was bad enough that Johnny was already worried he might have some kind of gay crush on on the guy. He really didn't need for Bobby to start thinking it too.

* * *


	4. Chapter 4

The problem with trying to stop thinking about Bobby so much was that it was just like that thing: _try not to think about pink elephants._ It had the exact opposite effect. The more Johnny tried, the more Bobby was _all_ he could think about.

Johnny's friend Tommy was the one who had actually made it to the tournament finals with him that year, facing off against Johnny for the title. It still felt pretty incredible, getting to fight one of his best friends in the final match instead of some random asshole from another dojo. Tommy gave as good as he got, and it had ended up a really close fight: neither of them scoring on each other for a while, until Johnny miraculously landed three hits in close succession and won.

Tommy had been kind of a dick about it afterwards — but, you know, in that funny, ironic way of his that only made Johnny love him more.

It was awesome. But it wasn't Bobby like Johnny had hoped, and he still couldn't get that thought out of his head. Because truthfully, Bobby was kind of amazing. He was funny, and sweet, and kind, and he told the best dumb jokes, and he always had great advice for Johnny, and he was always ready to listen whenever Johnny just needed to vent about some stupid shit that was bothering him.

Bobby would go to bat for Johnny anytime. Bobby accepted Johnny unconditionally. Bobby would stand by Johnny through thick and thin, now and forever.

Plus Bobby was, let's face it, incredibly attractive. He was lean and buff and insanely strong, like he could probably put Johnny in a headlock if he really wanted to; but he was also gentle and sensitive, downright adorable at times, and he had this energy about him that made you feel almost giddy to be around. And the way that his eyes sparkled when he laughed... Johnny just couldn't look away.

When Ali was around, it was pretty easy to focus on her: she was hot, and she made Johnny really happy (most of the time). But when she _wasn't_ around, his attention always inevitably drifted right back to Bobby.

He kept fixating on all the same little things that he had written notes about: how Bobby had great hair, and a nice ass, and an amazing smile. How his eyes were just the most beautiful shade of blue. And it was getting harder and harder to brush this off as meaningless.

Then sometimes Bobby would touch him. Nothing major, just casual bro stuff. A shoulder bump here, an arm squeeze there. When they were excited, they'd clap each other on the back or maybe even hug. When they were celebrating something, they'd high-five. Sometimes Bobby would playfully shove him, and sometimes Johnny shoved back.

It wasn't all that unusual, really. Straight dudes who were really close could do stuff like that and it didn't have to mean anything weird. His friend Dutch was actually pretty handsy too, even more than Bobby. He was always doing things like slapping Johnny's chest, or throwing an arm over his shoulder, or even putting his hand on the back of Johnny's neck casually. There wasn't anything gay about it, it was just guys being guys.

But Dutch touching him definitely didn't feel anything like it did when _Bobby_ touched him.

Because he didn't have all these _other thoughts_ about Dutch — or _any_ of his friends — that he did about Bobby. Because he and Bobby were bros, _best_ bros, but these weren't really bro thoughts at all, were they?

And Bobby's butt really did look very good in gym shorts. His hair really was shiny and thick, and Johnny wanted nothing more in the whole wide world than to just bury his hands in it. And his mouth was so pouty and pink that it was already impossible not to stare at it... but Bobby also had this tendency to constantly lick and bite his lips, _Jesus Christ._

So then, obviously, the only natural thing to happen was for Johnny to start having those damn dreams again.

* * *

After a couple months, it was pretty clear that the weird gay makeout dreams weren't going anywhere. They were actually getting more complex. And weirder. And gayer.

He had one where he and Bobby went on a date to Golf 'n' Stuff. It mostly wasn't a very strange dream — except for the fact that they were holding hands the entire time, and definitely kissed a few times where people could _totally see them,_ but nobody called them queers (or any of the worse words), or tried to kick their asses, or anything.

He had another dream where Bobby had made it to the tournament finals with him instead of Tommy, and they had their epic final fight — except then it somehow morphed into shirtless grappling, and then of course, making out. That was a recurring one: Johnny had had it at least five times, and counting.

The weirdest one was where he was kissing Ali, and then suddenly it was Bobby instead. And he remembered always thinking, in the dreams, that he should probably stop — but never wanting to.

So he wrote about it:

> _Dear Bobby,_
> 
> _I don't exactly know where to start or how to even say this so I guess I'll just say it: I'm starting to think that maybe I'm gay_
> 
> _Sorry to just drop a huge bombshell like that but I really don't know what to do_
> 
> _If my stepdad found out he would literally kill me. I'm not even kidding. The cops would be investigating my murder right now_
> 
> _If Sensei found out he'd_ _do worse than kill me. He'd kick me off the team & make me leave the class. Everyone knows there are  no girls in Cobra Kai  _
> 
> _If you guys found out......_
> 
> _I don't even know. I can't imagine it. What if you all stopped being friends with me???_
> 
> _I know it would make everything super weird & everyone would hate me & Tommy would NEVER let me hear the end of it (if he still even wanted to talk to me) & god you've all had your shirts off around me & you'd probably just think I've been staring like a creep _
> 
> _ & what would  you think?? _
> 
> _Bobby I've been having these dreams. Like makeout dreams. & they're _
> 
> _They're all about you _
> 
> _ & I know that's a super weird thing to tell your bro & I don't mean anything creepy by it it's not like I ACTUALLY want to make out with you _
> 
> _Except maybe I do_
> 
> _I don't know_
> 
> _I should stop thinking about this. But I can't. But I should._
> 
>   
>  _Johnny_
> 
> _P.S. Maybe I'm wrong...._
> 
> _Does dreaming about making out with your best friend make you gay??? If you don't actually do it??? But like maybe you want to?????_

He was scribbling all of this down furiously during study hall: covering the page with his hand but still paranoid, deathly afraid that somebody might see. He had to "accidentally" drop his pen on the floor and then kick it across the room just to get himself to stop writing. Then there was no choice but to very quickly fold up the letter and stuff it in his pocket, and try his best to forget about it.

They were just thoughts. Right? He didn't _really_ think he was gay. Of course not. Next period he had a class with Ali, and that would definitely take Johnny's mind off of all this. He loved Ali. He was _very attracted_ to Ali. Ali was amazing; but more importantly, Ali was a girl, and that meant that all this other shit was just in his head.

* * *

But then that summer, Johnny hit his breaking point and his carefully constructed world all collapsed in on itself. Worst of all was that he'd never even seen it coming...

(And he should have. He really should have.)

Tommy had gotten himself a fake ID, which was actually pretty terrible and didn't even look anything like him. But after a couple of failed attempts, they finally found a bar that would take it... and they all got _royally_ hammered.

Really, Johnny should have known better than to go out partying on the night before Ali's birthday. In fact, he did know better. But somehow that didn't stop him. Somehow it just made him want to drink himself stupid even more.

Maybe he just needed a break, you know? An excuse to blow off steam. Maybe, just for one night, he wanted not to think about Ali.

Well, the five or six beers Johnny had chugged in quick succession were certainly helping take care of that. Then when he went to go take a leak, Johnny came back to find that somebody had snagged his chair. So, of course he just had to steal Bobby's...

Only, instead of getting mad, Bobby grinned at him and sat down _right in his lap._

That was a little too much for Johnny to take with even an inch of sobriety remaining. But luckily, that's when Tommy came back to the table with some shots of tequila, and those definitely helped clear that right up.

When Johnny woke the next day, well past noon, it was face down and tangled up in his sheets with a pounding headache. But at least there wasn't any vomit on the pillow. Thank God for small miracles.

He remembered the beer, and the tequila, and drunkenly playing with Bobby's hair. Maybe even giving him a joking little kiss on the cheek? Or had he dreamt that part? He also remembered Jimmy puking his guts out in the alley behind the bar. And he remembered Dutch getting himself arrested when he'd had the brilliant idea to try to pry the dartboard off the wall, right there in front of everyone. It had been a pretty wild night.

What he _didn't_ remember was that today was his girlfriend's birthday.

And, well... that went over about as well as you'd expect. After he didn't show up for Birthday Dinner with her parents at the club, Ali stormed over to Johnny's house the next day and really ripped him a new one.

She was beyond pissed. She said she was sick and tired of it — of him. They had already been arguing that week (about some stupid crap Johnny couldn't even remember anymore), and he was _supposed_ to make it up to her with the beautiful and thoughtful tennis bracelet which he had spent an entire year's allowance on. The bracelet that he _forgot to give her._

Well, she certainly didn't want it now.

They were through. Finished. She said this wasn't like their previous breakups; this one was for good. Johnny couldn't believe he had let this happen. He was such an idiot!

But deep down, there was something else: a thought, a nagging suspicion, that somehow he had done this on purpose. That he'd subconsciously sabotaged his relationship with Ali, because on some level he _wanted_ it to be over between them.

Which was ridiculous and didn't make any sense. And Johnny would prove it; no matter what it took, he was going to win Ali back. They were in love, dammit! He wouldn't give up that easily. Maybe Ali was broken up with _him_ , but Johnny sure as hell wasn't broken up with _her._

Bobby kept telling him to let it go and move on: that Ali was ancient history and Johnny was better off without her. Which he... _kind of_ appreciated, but was mostly really annoyed by, to be honest.

What the hell did Bobby know, anyway?! Johnny and Ali were perfect for each other, and they were meant to be together! It was only a matter of time before she would take him back, obviously.

And if Bobby didn't like it, well — it's not like there were any other offers on the table, were there?

* * *

  
  
  


**Notes for the Chapter:**

> The bar scene + Johnny's memories of it the next day was one of my favorite parts of writing this story. Tommy with the tequila shots. Dutch breaking/trying to steal the dartboard... (*smh* I love that guy.)
> 
> What did you guys make of it? Did I do it justice? I'd love to hear your thoughts.
> 
> And a HUGE THANKS to everyone who has read and commented so far!! <3


	5. Chapter 5

**Notes for the Chapter:**

>  **Author's note:** Not trying to Daniel-bash; I actually adore him. But Johnny is an unreliable narrator, and to him Daniel LaRusso is nothing but an irredeemable asshole, end of story. So please take that with a grain of salt, especially if you love the little twerp as much as I do.

In September things actually went from bad to worse, when this obnoxious little turd named Daniel LaRusso came to town. This guy, you wouldn't believe it... he actually had the gall to hit on Ali — right in front of Johnny! Even after he found out that she was spoken for! And worse than that, Ali was into it; flirting back and everything!

Just his luck, the annoying twerp was in Johnny's grade. So they had classes together, ones where Johnny had to sit still and fight down the urge to kick him in the teeth every time the punk opened his mouth. _Everything_ about LaRusso was infuriating: the way he walked, the way he talked, even his stupid face. He looked like the kind of guy who just really needed a swirly, you know?

Oh yeah, and he tried to beat the crap out of Bobby one time just for using a slide tackle that made him trip during soccer tryouts. NOT an appropriate response! That incident alone was enough to make Johnny want to break his face. (Though it was funny, and pretty gratifying, to see Coach kick him off the field for losing his shit like that.)

Still. The dude was a hothead and he seriously needed to be taught a lesson. He just didn't know when to quit!

Sometimes Bobby would try to calm him down when Johnny was really about to lose it, and that helped... but not by much. It was hard to stay calm when this kid just wouldn't leave Johnny the hell alone. LaRusso kept stepping to him in the hallways, and in the cafeteria, and sometimes even in class (probably because that little wimp thought that having a teacher around would protect him).

He even came to Johnny's dojo one time, looking like he wanted to join up. Yeah right. Didn't he realize Cobra Kai wasn't for pussies?

The last straw came later that year at the Halloween dance. Johnny had just been minding his own business, trying to roll a joint in the boys room, when LaRusso — just wait till you hear this — turned a freaking water hose on his head!

That was it. The guy was _dead meat._

So, obviously, Johnny and his friends had to chase him down. He must have run for at least half a mile: right through traffic, down a hill, across a whole damn field, but Johnny didn't care. He was intent on catching him and giving that asshole the beatdown that was long overdue.

But then it all went sideways.

* * *

Johnny came home that night with a black eye and an ego that was beaten black and blue. And the first thing he did after putting ice on his face, before he even washed off the grease paint from his Halloween costume, was to find a notebook and a pen, sit down, and start scribbling furiously:

> _Dear Bobby,_
> 
> _I'm actually really pissed at you right now. I can't believe you would just side with LaRusso over me like that!!! _
> 
> _You KNOW what an absolute piece of shit he is!! I know you do man. Don't you remember when he punched you in the face that time?? _
> 
> _You know he deserves everything that was coming to him. But no! You think I'M the one with the problem?? You think there's something WRONG WITH ME just for wanting to defend myself???_
> 
> _I really can't believe you man._
> 
> _You know if it weren't for you we probably wouldn't of all gotten our asses kicked like that! Tommy's shoulder is busted!! Dutch won't be able to walk right for a week!!_
> 
> _ & you seriously still think LaRusso's the victim here???? _
> 
> _I don't get it man! Do you like him or something? Is that it?? Are you 2 gonna go do some gay shit like wear matching outfits & give each other handjobs??? If you were gonna go all queer for some1 you sure picked the  WORST DUDE you could possibly think of!!!! _

That was an _insane_ accusation, and Johnny didn't really mean it, obviously. Except now he was actually picturing Bobby and LaRusso, like, macking on each other, and it was super gross, and it absolutely made him see red.

It would be so typical, too. Just like that arrogant little shit-stain to not be content with Johnny's girlfriend, but to go after his best friend as well.

He started angrily scribbling again, pressing down on his pen so hard that it nearly tore the paper:

> _You know what Bobby SCREW YOU!!!_
> 
> _Look man if you think I'm such an asshole then don't hang out with me. Nobody's forcing you!! You're not the only friend I've got you know!! _
> 
> _So if you'd rather go pal around with LaRusso go right ahead. Be my guest. Hope you 2 are very fucking happy together!!! Hope he can be your new best friend cuz I bet you'd like him way more than me wouldn't you?? _
> 
> _Have fun braiding each other's hair & singing kumbaya or whatever. Just don't expect me to come to your wedding _
> 
> _Johnny_
> 
> _P.S. Maybe I never even liked you that much anyway_

Okay, so, that last part was definitely a lie. He liked Bobby more than he could ever imagine liking another person. Nothing, not even feeling hurt and angry and betrayed, could ever change that.

But it felt good to write it and pretend that it was true. Pretend that he was fine and that none of this mattered. That Bobby judging him, thinking he was a bad person — that there was something genuinely _wrong_ with him — didn't hurt him as much as it did.

* * *

The next day, before karate practice, Johnny and Bobby talked.

He had assumed he would be pissed off for a very long time; but deep down, Johnny knew he could never stay mad at Bobby. That was as true now as it had been five years ago: it was impossible to hate a guy like that.

And in this, just like everything else, Bobby was simply amazing. A much better friend than Johnny actually deserved. He took the time to reassure him that he still supported him, still had his back, no matter what. That there was no judgment here. Maybe Johnny had gone a little overboard; but LaRusso was still the asshole who had attacked him first, out of nowhere. He was one hundred percent on Johnny's side about that. If this guy had a problem with Johnny, he had a problem with Bobby.

And sure, Bobby may have sounded pretty mad last night — but mostly he'd just been scared. _For Johnny._ He really didn't want him to do something that he might regret for the rest of his life. They were still brothers though, thick as thieves. Nothing would change that, not ever.

Johnny felt like a real jackoff.

Just a few days later, he broke down and wrote Bobby another letter:

> _Dear Bobby,_
> 
> _I'm really sorry about what I wrote last time. I was a total dick. You didn't deserve that_

Sheesh. He was apologizing to an _imaginary version_ of his best friend, like some kind of crazy person. Still, it needed to be said. So he kept writing.

> _Listen I get it now. You were just trying to protect me from myself. I guess I could of really hurt him a lot worse than I planned to. Maybe even......_
> 
> _Well thanks to you that didn't happen. I really owe you man_
> 
> _But it's not like it's the first time you've saved my ass just by being you & it probably won't be the last. I owe you  big time for  SO MANY things Bobby _
> 
> _What I'm saying is that I love you & you're pretty much the most incredible friend a guy could ask for _
> 
> _I mean it Bobby. You're amazing. I'm so lucky we're friends!!!!_
> 
> _(Please forgive me for being such an ass)_
> 
> _Sincerely,_   
>  _Johnny_

He considered scribbling out the "love" part, just so he wouldn't sound like a _total_ homo; but he decided to leave it in. It was true, after all.

* * *

  
  
  



	6. Chapter 6

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I'm sorry these chapters have been so far between. Only three more left to go, and I'll try to do better about posting them more regularly, I promise. 
> 
> Now, brace yourselves: here comes the angstiest chapter of the entire story... 
> 
> (Don't worry, though. There's definitely a light at the end of this tunnel!)

Things with LaRusso didn't get any less tense after that. If anything, it was even worse. That fart-sniffer actually had the audacity to show up at Johnny's dojo — with the same weird old Asian dude who had kicked all their asses — and demand that Johnny and his friends leave him alone. That Sensei Kreese should _make them_ leave him alone.

Of course, Johnny was sure that his sensei would never go along with a bullshit request like that. But to his surprise, Sensei Kreese actually agreed. On one condition: LaRusso had to enter the All Valley Tournament and give Johnny a chance to kick his ass then.

Johnny couldn't believe this. It was so stupid! They were actually told to lay off the kid _completely_ until All Valley, "so he could train." Ha! What a joke. But Johnny was well-disciplined, and he wasn't about to question his sensei's orders.

 _Nobody touches the prima donna until the tournament_ , Sensei had barked at them, in a tone that really wasn't open for interpretation. _Is that understood?!_

Well, fine. Johnny could play by those rules. He'd just bottle up all his rage till the competition; and if LaRusso didn't get eliminated first, he'd get a chance to whale on him then. And even if he did get eliminated, Johnny could still whale on him plenty afterwards.

But that was easier said than done. If Johnny had needed help staying calm before, now Bobby was working overtime. Since LaRusso knew that Johnny and the guys couldn't touch him anymore, he wasn't shy about flaunting it — especially to show off in front of Ali. And he was just so _obnoxious_ about it.

Johnny couldn't fucking _wait_ till the tournament, so he could finally kick this guy's ass once and for all. Except, when the day of the competition finally arrived... it didn't go the way Johnny had hoped.

Like, _at all._

LaRusso was actually good at karate, first of all. What the hell? That didn't even make any sense! Last Johnny had checked, this crybaby didn't have any moves to save his life. Now all of a sudden he was good enough to beat just about everyone in Johnny's crew? It was like some kind of dirty trick. Had he been faking it all along? Two months was definitely not enough time to get that good.

And then in the semifinals, things really took a nosedive.

Tommy, Jimmy, even Dutch (freaking _Dutch!_ Johnny couldn't believe it) had all been eliminated by LaRusso. But Johnny and Bobby, along with that obnoxious twerp, had made it to the final four. It was Bobby vs. LaRusso and Johnny vs. Darryl Vidal from the Locust Valley dojo. Vidal was no joke, but Johnny was still the better fighter — and in the end, victorious. Now all Bobby had to do was beat LaRusso, and it would be Johnny's dream come true: him and Bobby for the title.

That would be the only thing that could make this whole ridiculous ordeal worthwhile. Then afterwards maybe he could give LaRusso an additional beatdown in the parking lot. Johnny was already smiling with satisfaction at the thought.

But apparently Sensei had other ideas.

He didn't seem to think that Bobby _or_ Johnny could beat LaRusso in a fight — not without playing dirty. And he was getting pretty desperate, by the looks of it. Desperate enough to throw Bobby under the bus without even a second thought.

"I want him taken out of commission," he told Bobby just before his match against LaRusso; simple and direct, his meaning absolutely clear. Johnny felt all the blood drain from his face at those words. Sensei was sitting with his back to him, so he couldn't see the way that Johnny's jaw clenched with anger, or the look of absolute betrayal in his eyes.

Up until now, Johnny may have had some doubts about his sensei's approach to the situation; but he'd been willing to set those aside, falling back on his loyalty to Cobra Kai, and to this man, who had been like a father to him. But this? Forcing Bobby to violate the rules and get himself disqualified — for what? Just to guarantee that LaRusso, this dweeb who shouldn't have even been a blip on any of their radars, had zero chance of advancing to the finals?

No. No, that was a bridge too far.

"But Sensei, I can beat this guy," Bobby protested, echoing Johnny's thoughts. But Sensei Kreese didn't want to hear it.

"I don't want him _beat._ "

"But I'll be disqualified!"

Sensei's voice was like steel. "Out. Of commission." No room for argument. Just do as you're told.

Bobby squared his shoulders and got up, looking like he was walking into his own execution. Johnny desperately wanted to stop him, tell him that it wasn't worth it — that if Bobby wanted to throw it all away _right now_ and simply quit Cobra Kai, Johnny would be right behind him. It sounded insane, to just give up this thing that they had devoted so much of their lives to. Something that had meant so much to both of them — to _all_ of them. But in this moment, Johnny really didn't care. His love for Bobby trumped all of that.

He _wanted_ to stop him. But Johnny was rooted to the spot, frozen. His throat felt too tight for him to speak.

And then Bobby was already out in the middle of the mat, bowing to LaRusso, and it was all happening so fast, there was nothing Johnny could do to stop it. Someone in the stands (Dutch?) yelling: _Do what you gotta do, Bobby!_ and Johnny _hoped_ that he wouldn't, but he knew it was too late. Bobby had never been able to say no to Sensei Kreese. None of them could.

Bobby's flying side kick was as quick and vicious as a cobra strike, LaRusso collapsing on the mat like a broken toy and Bobby down on his knees beside him, choking on a desperate litany of: "Daniel, I'm sorry! I'm sorry! I didn't mean it, Daniel!" as the refs grabbed him and pulled him away.

Johnny felt sick to his stomach. He couldn't believe what he'd just witnessed.

He watched as the medics carried LaRusso out of the stadium, the announcer saying something about how he had fifteen minutes to return before forfeiting the match, and then he jerked to go after Bobby— But Sensei's hand gripped his arm like a shackle, halting him.

"You're not going anywhere, Mr. Lawrence. They're about to hand you our trophy."

 _Our._ Johnny had never had any illusions about the fact that Sensei Kreese took all of this personally, saw their triumphs and their losses as his own. It's what made him so devoted to bringing out the best in his students, and most of the time, it seemed like a good thing.

Right now, it made Johnny feel cheap and used.

"Don't worry, I'll check on Bobby," Jimmy whispered to him, and that was a relief at least. Kreese seemed content to let him go. Then it was nothing but a tense wait to see if LaRusso would return.

When they finally called Johnny and Sensei Kreese up to the middle of the mat, Johnny's smile was forced and tight. Any other time, being named the All Valley Under Eighteen Karate Champion three years running would have been a great honor; but now it felt more like a punishment than a reward. A mockery of everything that Johnny loved about this sport.

And then, at the last second... LaRusso came limping back out, apparently still intent on fighting him. This fucking guy. He really didn't know when to quit, did he?

Johnny had felt devastated by Sensei Kreese's actions; but LaRusso? He was truly the one to blame for it all, wasn't he? If not for him, none of this would ever have happened!

So, fine. If a broken knee wasn't enough — if this piss-for-brains punk really wanted to be stomped all the way into the ground — Johnny was more than happy to oblige.

He was still distracted by thoughts of Bobby and by the ugly churning in the pit of his stomach over what Kreese had made him do, but that was alright. He'd manage.

He had to.

* * *

He didn't.

It was a foot to the face that did him in. LaRusso had executed some kind of weird jumping kick that definitely wasn't a proper karate move, and didn't even seem like it should be legal — but apparently the refs didn't care. There was nothing left for Johnny to do except to struggle up off the floor with his tail between his legs and hand the guy his trophy (he made _sure_ he was the one handing it to him), forcing out the words: "You're alright, LaRusso. Good match."

It was humiliating. He wasn't sure he would ever live this down.

Ali was a lost cause at this point. She'd already been acting like she was head-over-heels for this loser; but now that _Johnny_ was the loser and LaRusso the winner, there was absolutely no hope of getting her back.

His best friend had been callously betrayed by their sensei; and Kreese's stupid plan hadn't even worked! LaRusso had still won, and Bobby had gotten himself disqualified for nothing. Johnny couldn't help feeling guilty. He would walk through broken glass for Bobby — but he hadn't been able to stop him from throwing away his shot at the championship. His _last_ shot. By next December they would all be eighteen, no longer qualified to compete.

But he wasn't thinking about other possible tournaments right now, or his karate career. All Johnny could think about was Bobby and making sure he was okay.

He and the rest of the guys caught up to Bobby and Jimmy out in the parking lot after showering and changing. Bobby was all keyed up, pacing with his fists clenched, while Jimmy seemed to be trying to talk him down. He nearly jumped when Johnny touched him on the shoulder.

"Whoa! Hey man... are you alright? That was pretty messed up back there."

"Thanks. I'm... I'll be okay. I just can't believe Kreese made me do that!" It was the first time Johnny had ever heard him call the man anything but Sensei.

"Can't believe it either," Johnny muttered, feeling his teeth grind together with a low spark of anger, ready to be fanned to full blaze.

"Is LaRusso gonna be alright?" Bobby asked, then eyed Johnny's trophy. "Did you win?"

Johnny allowed himself a weak smile, shrugging sheepishly. "Second place." It didn't even matter anymore. After what Kreese had done? He really didn't want to win any more titles under the name Cobra Kai.

"Mr. Lawrence!" barked a voice from behind him, and Johnny turned to see the man himself striding over to them. "I hope you don't expect any mercy from me, after that pitiful display. You're finished!"

"Hey, that's not fair!" he objected automatically, forgetting that he'd been thinking about quitting just moments ago. "I _got_ second place!"

"Second place is _no place._ You're off the team!"

"That sucks, I did my best!"

"What did you say?!"

It was a battle of wills, and it felt almost like a final showdown: student vs. teacher. Johnny could hear the blood rushing in his ears, felt nothing but hot, furious indignation pumping through him. "I said I did my best!"

"You're NOTHING! You LOST! You're a LOSER!" Kreese was right in his face, shouting like a drill sergeant. But for once in his life, Johnny wasn't afraid of him.

"No! _You're_ the loser, man!"

"Oh, _I'm_ the loser?"

"Yeah."

And then—

Then everything moved very fast. Words were still coming out of his mouth but Johnny's brain was two steps behind, he couldn't really process what he was saying. It was like he was watching a match from the stands: nothing but a spectator, unable to participate.

Chunks of broken plastic and metal flying, then suddenly a strong arm around his throat, cutting off oxygen. He watched himself struggle uselessly, heard his friends yell in shock and dismay, as if from a distance.

_Come on, he can't breathe!_

_You're gonna kill him!_

_Sensei, please! You're hurting him! He's sorry, okay? He really is!_

Johnny's vision was going dark. The last thing he registered, just barely, was the old man (LaRusso's sensei?) telling Kreese to let him go, words muffled against the roar of white noise inside his head. And then he crumpled to the ground, dizzy and gasping.

He wasn't paying attention to Kreese and the old man anymore; he couldn't if he wanted to. All Johnny could focus on was getting air back into his lungs. Bobby was the first one at his side, helping Johnny up off the ground and onto the curb, frantically asking if he was alright.

"No," Johnny choked out, and that was all he could really say. Bobby didn't press him for more.

* * *

The house was empty that night. Johnny's mom had had to accompany his stepdad to some rich guy function, and they probably wouldn't be home till pretty late. Johnny was thankful for that. He really couldn't face either of them right now.

Sid's typical jeering — _Second place? That figures! What's the matter, kid, they ain't even give you a trophy?_ — would only add insult to injury. But the deep sadness and pain in his mother's eyes, her genuine worry... that would be worse. It would be more than Johnny could bear.

He had already washed off the sweat from the match, but he still got into the shower, barely finding the will to strip off his clothes. The marble tile was so much nicer, the cabin far more specious, than the bare and cramped locker room stalls at the Arena.

He turned the water on, not so hot that it would aggravate the fresh bruises around his neck, then sat down on the floor beneath the spray. And for the first time in years, Johnny let himself cry.

* * *

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I would REALLY love to know what you guys thought of this one! I have _many thoughts and feelings_ about Johnny's facial expressions and body language during the tournament semifinals... and hardly anyone seems to talk about this. 
> 
> It was a lot of fun writing it, as well as the parking lot scene afterwards. If you actually enjoyed how I handled it, knowing that would mean a lot! 💖


	7. Chapter 7

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This chapter is pretty much my favorite (at least, up until the very end, which probably trumps it). Especially the beach scene...
> 
> I really hope you guys enjoy it, and it would MEAN THE WORLD to me to hear what you all think! 💖

It was difficult to talk about any of this with the guys; they all sympathized, but they couldn't _truly_ understand. None of them had had the kind of relationship with Kreese that Johnny did, and he couldn't really put into words how it felt to be so utterly betrayed by the closest thing he'd ever had to a father.

Or maybe he didn't even want to try. It was painful, and it was infuriating, and he was goddamn done thinking about it.

The only one who came anywhere close to _getting it_ was Bobby. Kreese hadn't literally tried to murder him; but what he'd done to Bobby was a betrayal nonetheless. And it made Johnny feel a little bit better, knowing that someone else understood at least a fraction of what he was going through.

Two weeks after the tournament — two full weeks of sullen silences, and jumping whenever people walked up behind him, and brushing off anyone who asked if he wanted to "talk about it" — Bobby finally got Johnny to open up.

In the end, it turned out it wasn't that difficult after all. It was just the two of them for once, down at the beach late one night, just sitting in the sand under the January sky. And when Bobby turned to Johnny and said, "Man, I wish it could have all gone differently," Johnny just... broke.

There was _so much_ that he wanted to say, so much that he just didn't have any fucking words for — but he tried, by God, he tried. And Bobby listened to all of it, even the parts that didn't make any sense, the parts that just sounded like nonsensical raving. And the parts that were difficult for Johnny to get out, that made him choke on the words.

Bobby didn't rush him. Didn't press. Didn't try to give bullshit advice, or _fix_ Johnny, or tell him that everything was okay, when they both knew it wasn't. He just listened. And he talked, too. Talked until both of them were holding back tears, and laughing at each other, and wondering where the hours had gone. Until there was nothing more left to say.

It was well past midnight, the city gone quiet. Nothing but the whisper of dark water lapping at the shore. Bobby put his hand over Johnny's in the sand and wordlessly leaned in, closing his eyes and just resting his forehead against Johnny's. It wasn't sexual, or even romantic. It was just intimacy, in its purest, simplest form. Just two people — and it didn't matter that they were dudes — coming together, as two halves of a damaged whole.

Survivors, both of them.

They didn't need any more words. They just sat like that for a long time: breathing in each other's closeness, feeling the cool sand beneath their hands, letting the morning breeze ruffle their hair.

And it was enough.

* * *

The rest of senior year was a hideous mess.

Ali was with LaRusso now — like, really _with_ him, officially — and they were both eager to flaunt it. Holding hands in the hallway; making googly eyes at each other during class; making out right in front of the school, as if sucking face was an Olympic sport and they were going for gold.

It made Johnny more pissed off than he had ever been about anything in his life; but when it came to kicking the crap out of that little weasel, all the fight had gone out of him. LaRusso seemed content to leave Johnny alone now that he had basically "won," and that meant Johnny had no more excuses to go after the guy. Nothing but bitterness and envy.

Without karate to fall back on, Johnny found that he was angry _all the time_ , and he had absolutely no outlet for it. To the point where the only thing he had left to do was take a baseball bat down to the junkyard and spend all day smashing car windows, until he couldn't lift his arms anymore. Coming home with mud on his brand new sneakers and rust stains all over his designer jeans, and getting an earful from his stepfather on top of everything.

Johnny's grades were slipping, and Sid was breathing down his neck about keeping up his GPA and getting into a good college, so all the "money he'd invested" in Johnny wouldn't go to waste. All it did was make him feel even more like a worthless piece of trash, something that the old son of a bitch just couldn't wait to get rid of.

The bruises on Johnny's neck had long faded, but he still had nightmares about that night. About seeing his best friend dragged off by the referees, calling out frantic apologies over what Kreese had made him do. About LaRusso's foot hitting him square in the face: the searing pain and then feeling himself falling, the mat swallowing him whole. About Kreese in the parking lot afterwards, finally showing himself for the monster he truly was.

Much worse than the physical trauma of his actions were his words, still echoing in Johnny's head:

_You're nothing._

_You lost._

_You're a loser._

It felt like he deserved this. All of it.

And then there was Bobby. The one and only bright spot in Johnny's miserable life. Bobby who was solid like a wall, always there to protect him — from the world and from himself. Who was kind, and gentle, and patient with him; but also fierce, ready to take on whatever life threw at them. Bobby who was nothing short of beautiful... because Johnny just didn't have it in him to deny that anymore.

With his firm chest and perfect ass, that gorgeous dirty blond hair, his blue eyes dancing every time he smiled... and those full, bitten-red lips that Johnny wanted to kiss more than he could remember wanting anything, ever.

* * *

In April, four months after the All Valley Tournament, Johnny wrote Bobby another letter:

> _Dear Bobby,_
> 
> _I think I might be in love with you. No that's not right. I'm definitely in love with you. _
> 
> _I can't even believe I just wrote that._
> 
> _SHIT_
> 
> _FUCK_
> 
> _Fucking hell, I don't know what I'm supposed to say now. Man I'm sorry. I know you don't feel the same way & I know this is weird as fuck & I just _
> 
> _I don't even really think I'm gay. Maybe I am but I'm pretty sure I'm not. Pretty sure I'm into babes not dudes. But....._
> 
> _It's just YOU man. It's always been you Bobby. I can't even lie about it. Even back in 8th grade it was always you _
> 
> _You were always my best friend. My brother. But I think some part of me knew it was more than that. I don't like you the way I like Tommy or Jimmy or Dutch. I've never felt this way about anyone else. Not even Ali. Just you._
> 
> _ JUST YOU  _
> 
> _Like you're a part of me or some shit. I don't know. I can't even explain it I just feel it _
> 
> _ & I don't know what I'm supposed to do about it & I know I can never tell you because it would ruin everything _
> 
> _But I just wanted_
> 
> _To tell you_
> 
> _Even though I can't. Don't even know what I'd say. It definitely wouldn't be any of this stupid shit_
> 
> _I'm fucked man. All I know right now is that I'm fucked........_
> 
> _Johnny_

Johnny really didn't know what he was supposed to do. There was literally _nothing_ to be done about this. He knew Bobby could never reciprocate (he loved Johnny, sure, but obviously not like that), so telling him wouldn't accomplish anything. All it would do is make things weird and basically destroy their friendship.

He thought about tossing the _entire shoebox_ in the ocean and hoping it would do what it was supposed to: take all those feelings away and make Johnny forget about them once and for all. But even if he believed that it would work (which he didn't), Johnny had poured way too much of himself into those letters. He couldn't stomach the thought of throwing them away.

He considered redoubling his efforts to get Ali back. Maybe it wasn't too late! But Ali was still all over LaRusso, and she had absolutely no qualms about rubbing Johnny's face in it. It made him want to puke. It seemed easier to just give up on her than to put himself through that.

He thought about trying to find himself another girlfriend. Anyone, really, that might take his mind off of Bobby. But there was no one at their school that he actually liked. No one but the one person he shouldn't.

All that remained was to wait it out. Just make it to graduation; it wasn't that far away, after all. Then... as much as Johnny _hated_ the idea of going to a different college than Bobby, maybe putting some distance between them would do him good. Maybe he'd meet someone new, and finally be able to move on from this stupid unrequited crush.

Maybe. Maybe.

* * *


	8. Chapter 8

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I'm sorry for the long wait! But now we're just one chapter away from the exciting conclusion... (No one gets punched in the face this time, I promise.)

The end of the school year really couldn't come fast enough. It wasn't like Johnny was spending _all_ his time thinking about his feelings for Bobby, but when he did it was unbearable.

Just a little while longer. He'd gotten acceptance letters from a couple different schools, and college seemed like the light at the end of the tunnel. If he could actually move past this weird gay shit, then he and Bobby could go back to being regular, normal best friends — and that was all Johnny wanted, honestly. His friendship with Bobby meant everything to him.

Then finally, _finally_ the day had arrived at least! Johnny's mom couldn't be prouder of him. Sid couldn't wait to get Johnny out of the house. Johnny just wanted his diploma, and to put this shitshow of a senior year far behind him.

He did look good in his cap and gown, though. The royal blue really brought out his eyes.

The graduation ceremony was in the school auditorium, and afterwards there would be a reception in the gym. Johnny's mom was here alone, which was definitely a relief; he really did not want to have to deal with his stepdad, today of all days.

"I'm so proud of you, baby," she told him as she kissed Johnny's cheek, reaching up to adjust his tie. Johnny ducked his head, blushing.

"I know, Mom. Quit it, you're embarrassing me." But seeing the way her eyes sparkled with such genuine love for him, it was pretty hard not to grin. Laura Lawrence simply had that effect on people — everyone, not just her son.

Johnny gave her a reciprocal peck on the cheek, then left her to mingle as he went to find his seat. They had decided to allow people to sit with their friends instead of forcing everyone into rows alphabetically, and that was a godsend, because Johnny would give anything not to have to sit anywhere near LaRusso. Although, he noted with some interest, the dipshit wasn't sitting with Ali for whatever reason. Could there be trouble in paradise?

He spotted Bobby and Dutch, who were already sitting down with some empty seats to Bobby's right. Bobby grinned and waved him over, and for a moment the simple gesture made Johnny's heart swell with emotion... followed immediately by an ugly pang of self-loathing. Dammit. He really needed to get over this stupid crush, before it ruined him.

Johnny left a chair between himself and Bobby as he sat down, just so it wouldn't look (or feel) weird. Tommy plopped down next to him instead, casually throwing his arm over the back of Johnny's chair. Jimmy, the last one to make it, took the remaining seat.

The ceremony was starting.

A voice came on over the PA system with a few announcements. Johnny wasn't really listening... until he heard something that caught his attention:

_"To all students who have yet to clean out their lockers: janitorial staff will be removing any remaining locks and collecting your belongings. You may pick up your items in the lost and found before the end of the day."_

Johnny hadn't cleaned out his locker yet. Which wouldn't be that big a deal, except — shit! A horrifying realization dawned on him: he had weed in there. Just a couple joints in a plastic bag, nothing major, but it was more than enough to get him in serious trouble. He wasn't exactly sure what would happen when (not if) the faculty found his drugs, but he knew that having to pick up his stuff at the lost and found would be the least of his worries.

Fuck. How could he have been so stupid?! For some reason, he'd been convinced they weren't taking the locks off until tomorrow...

Fuck fuck fuck!

_"And now, ladies and gentlemen, please welcome your valedictorian!"_

* * *

The valedictorian's speech was at most ten minutes long, but it felt like it dragged on for centuries. Johnny was squirming in his seat, unable to think about anything but the contents of his locker. Every second was like a doomsday clock counting down to his personal demise.

He barely registered when they began calling people up one by one to get their diplomas. God, he really needed to get out of here and get to his stash, before it was all over for him. Getting expelled on the actual day of graduation would be one hell of an accomplishment... but Johnny wasn't looking to impress anyone. And he couldn't go to juvie; his stepdad would kill him.

But there was no way for him to leave right now — it would look way too suspicious, especially if he wasn't back before they made it to the Ls.

 _"Susan Blatt,"_ said the loudspeaker, and Johnny briefly glanced over to where Ali was sitting with her friends as Susan stood up.

And then, after several more names were called: _"Robert Brown."_

Bobby got up, grinning, and mouthed _Wish me luck_ before making his way to the stage. Johnny was struck with a sudden epiphany: Bobby might just be his salvation! He waited on pins and needles until Bobby finally came back to his seat, then grabbed the sleeve of his robe before he could even sit down.

"Hey!" Johnny stage-whispered. "Switch with Tommy! I need to talk to you. ...It's an _emergency_ ," he added tightly, in response to Bobby's dubious look.

Bobby frowned and switched seats with Tommy, looking deeply concerned now. "Hey, man. What's up?"

Johnny leaned in so he could speak directly into Bobby's ear, keeping his voice as low as possible. "I've got a few joints in my locker. I didn't realize they'd be taking the locks off today." God, he felt like such an idiot.

Bobby sat bolt upright with alarm. "Oh crap!"

"Shhhhh!" Johnny hissed at him. "Look, you got a chance to really save my ass right now. Your name's already been called, no one would think it's weird if you left. Just go to my locker and grab the weed for me, before the janitors find it."

Bobby was more than ready. It was a risk, but he would do anything for Johnny; that's just the kind of friend he was. "What's your combination?"

"9-20-36. They're in a ziploc... but I'm not sure exactly where it is. You might have to dig around."

"I got you, man. Don't worry." Bobby clapped Johnny on the shoulder, squeezing reassuringly. "Everything's gonna be okay, I promise." Then he got out of his seat and walked, as briskly and inconspicuously as he could, out of the auditorium.

Johnny watched him go, feeling himself visibly relax. Yeah. Yeah, everything would be fine. Bobby Brown to the rescue.

* * *

Once they did get to the Ls, Bobby still wasn't back yet. It was making Johnny a little bit nervous for him to be gone this long, but he tried his best to put it out of his mind. It was probably nothing. Maybe Bobby had had to take a wiz on his way back and was searching around the school for an unlocked bathroom.

When the loudspeaker called up Daniel LaRusso, Johnny couldn't help eyeing that little prick as he got out of his seat and strode smugly toward the stage. Like he was King of the School or some shit. He glanced over at Ali and found her watching too, which set Johnny's teeth on edge.

As LaRusso came back, he didn't go to his previous seat. He seemed to have spotted an empty chair in the row in front of Ali's and he was making a beeline for it. But to Johnny's surprise, neither Ali nor her friends seemed happy to see him.

Now Johnny's undivided attention was on the scene that was unfolding between his ex-girlfriend and his former nemesis. He couldn't hear any of what they were saying, but Ali looked clearly upset, and LaRusso was waving his arms around like an idiot as he tried to get some sort of point across. Johnny almost missed his own name being called as he watched the drama with a creeping sense of excitement. Was he witnessing a breakup? If these two were finished, could he get Ali back on the rebound?!

Johnny hurried up to the stage, distracted, still throwing glances over his shoulder to try to catch the rest of the argument. He managed to see LaRusso get up and storm back to his original seat like a drama queen, and felt a satisfied smile spread across his face. There was no mistaking it: Ali and LaRusso were through.

This was a godsend! He'd been looking for a way to get over Bobby, and here it was, handed to him on a silver platter. If Johnny could just get Ali back, his life would finally be on track again. Everything would be perfect.

* * *

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Alright! Next chapter is the finale! Sorry to leave you on a cliffhanger... but the payout will definitely be worth it, I think. 
> 
> Anyone got any guesses about what happens next? Lay it on me, guys — now's your last chance!


	9. Chapter 9

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Finally, we're at the end. I just want to take a moment to thank everyone on Discord for your love and support while writing this — most of all, thank you to [StrikeLikeACobraKai](https://archiveofourown.org/users/StrikeLikeACobraKai/pseuds/StrikeLikeACobraKai) and [Wadsworth](https://archiveofourown.org/users/Wadsworth/pseuds/Wadsworth), who were there every step of the way. 💖
> 
> (Please go check out their amazing fic and give them both some love!)

Later, after the ceremony was already over, Bobby caught up to Johnny at the reception. He had been gone a _really_ long time; but Johnny wasn't thinking about that right now. His entire focus was on tracking down Ali and getting to the bottom of what was going on with her and LaRusso. If Johnny was right and they really had broken up, he had to seize the opportunity ( _strike first_ ) before someone else swooped in.

Bobby tapped Johnny on the shoulder, starling him. "Hey, man, listen—"

"Don't worry about it," Johnny cut across him distractedly. "Just give the weed back to me whenever."

"Johnny," Bobby said more firmly this time, and grabbed his arm. "I _really_ need to talk to you." His voice had an edge of urgency to it, and he was looking a little pale; not that Johnny was playing him much attention.

He waved Bobby off. "Later, man. I think Ali finally dumped LaRusso. I gotta go try to find her before she leaves..."

" _Johnny._ C'mon, man, I'm serious. This is fucking important."

 _That_ finally made Johnny stop and listen, because... wow, Bobby _never_ cursed. This must have been pretty important after all. "Alright, man, just make it quick."

"Come on," Bobby tugged on his sleeve. "Let's talk in private."

That didn't exactly sound like a quick chat; but Johnny caved. After all, this was Bobby: the one guy in the world who _always_ had time for Johnny. He'd have to be a real dick if he didn't do his best to reciprocate. Besides, it's not like Ali wouldn't still be there tomorrow, or the day after. Worst case scenario, Johnny could just hang out at Golf 'n' Stuff all summer until they inevitably ran into each other.

He followed Bobby down the hall and into an empty classroom. Bobby grabbed a chair and jammed the door shut behind them, which, uh, didn't exactly bode well for Johnny. He wanted complete privacy _and_ it couldn't wait till after the reception? This must be something really serious.

Feeling anxious, Johnny leaned back against the teacher's desk and stared down at his shoes. He felt Bobby walked right up to him, his checkered Vans coming into view, and heard him heave a deep sigh until Johnny finally looked up to meet his eyes.

For some reason Johnny's heart was racing. He and Bobby had been best friends for years — and they had trained in karate together, for heaven's sake! Being in very close proximity to him was nothing new. So Johnny really couldn't understand why it was making him feel so on edge all of a sudden.

For a moment, Bobby said nothing. He just raised his eyebrows meaningfully, as if he expected Johnny to already know what this was about. Then he reached into his back pocket to produce a folded up piece of notebook paper— and Johnny's heart stopped. It felt like the floor had dropped out from under him.

Still quiet and visibly tense, Bobby handed over the letter. Johnny braced himself... then slowly unfolded it. It was his last one.

The _worst_ one.

Bobby swallowed, the silence of the room amplifying the sound. He tried to make eye contact, but Johnny was afraid to meet his gaze. Terrified of what he'd see in those ocean blue eyes.

"Johnny, what is that?" Bobby finally managed, sounding no less scared than Johnny felt.

"It's nothing," Johnny lied. But he knew that was useless, obviously.

"It's not nothing."

"Man, you were just supposed to find my weed. Not go rummaging through my stuff!" He didn't even know what he was trying to accomplish with that. Was he expecting Bobby to go back in time and _not_ find the letter?

"I wasn't!" Bobby protested, his voice getting higher, with just a touch of hysteria. "You _told me_ to dig around! I was just looking for the weed, a-and then the shoebox fell over, and... dude, it was so full! I see a bunch of stuff with my name written on it, how do you expect me not to look?!"

"God dammit..." Johnny muttered, hanging his head in defeat.

"Look, man, I'm not judging you. That's not what's happening here." Bobby tried to touch Johnny on the arm reassuringly, but Johnny flinched. He happened to catch a glimpse of Bobby's face just then... and he really wished he hadn't. Bobby looked like that one little twitch of Johnny's shoulder had been a devastating blow.

Fuck. There was no right thing to say or do here. No coming back from shit like this.

"Did you read it?" Johnny forced out, tightly, because it felt like his throat was closing up. The answer was pretty obvious anyway.

There was a quiver in Bobby's voice. "I read all of them."

"...Shit, man."

Bobby inhaled, visibly bracing himself. "Johnny, is this... really how you feel about me?" he asked with urgency.

Johnny had no idea what he was supposed to say. "Look, man, it's not... You don't have to worry. This is, this isn't anything. It's just some dumb shit I wrote down that I never expected anyone to read." _You least of all._

"You didn't answer my question."

Johnny swallowed and averted his eyes, saying nothing.

"Would you please just _look at me?_ Come on, man, don't do this. I just wanna talk to you!"

"Look, I know you don't feel the same way, alright! I never expected you to..." Johnny's own voice was starting to tremble. "It's fine, dude. I promise. This doesn't have to change anything between us..." That was a goddamn lie and he knew it. How could anything ever be the same after this?

A beat, and then Bobby actually _laughed_ , shaking his head like he couldn't quite believe this was happening (and that made two of them). He stepped in closer, crowding into Johnny's personal space, hands braced on the desk as he tilted his head up to finally look Johnny in the eye. Just blue on blue, unguarded and sincere.

"Johnny, you're an idiot."

"The hell are you talking about?" Johnny asked, heart all the way in his throat.

"I've been head over heels for you since middle school. Why do you think I've never been able to hold down a girlfriend?" He placed one hand on top of Johnny's where it was resting on the desk and stroked a circle with his thumb, chuckling softly. "...Because none of them were you."

Bobby's touch was electric. Johnny's breaths had turned quick and shallow. "What are you saying to me right now?"

"I'm saying everything you wrote in those letters, I feel it too. All of it."

"So... you think that my hair is stupid and you hope I fall in a ditch?" Johnny joked awkwardly, remembering that very first letter. His palms were sweaty and his heart was pounding like a jackhammer.

Bobby shook his head again. "Man, shut up. You say the dumbest crap sometimes."

"Yeah, I know. Got a whole shoebox of it."

Bobby looked down, blushing profusely in a way that made Johnny feel like he couldn't breathe. "I kinda love you," he said quietly.

And he didn't add "man" at the end, like bros normally do. And that one tiny difference was _everything._

So Johnny took a breath and thought, why the hell not? He might as well be brave for once in his life. Because he might not be any good with words... but he didn't want to spend the next fifty years writing letters. So he put a sure hand on Bobby's hip, pulled him close, and kissed him.

It turned out that the dreams didn't do it justice. Bobby wasn't just a pretty good kisser — he was freaking fantastic. His lips were warm and pillowy soft, tongue slipping into Johnny's mouth almost shyly as he breathed a sigh into the kiss. Johnny would have expected urgency: five years of mutual pining between the two of them, a sum total of one entire decade. But instead, this was... sweet. And it felt good. Better than good. It felt incredible.

"...I'm going to UCLA," Bobby murmured when they pulled apart.

Johnny's mind blanked. "What?"

"In one of your letters. You asked if I knew what college I was going to." Ah, right. Johnny remembered that. "I'm thinking UCLA."

"I was kinda hoping to leave the state..." Johnny started, but thought better of it immediately. The rest of the guys were here. His _life_ was here.

"You can go wherever you wanna go, man," Bobby said, with a reassuring smile. He was nothing if not committed to being supportive of Johnny — now and forever.

"I... really just wanna be wherever you are," Johnny admitted, and now it was his turn to blush. "I'm sorry, is that weird? It is. It's weird. I'm coming on too strong, aren't I?"

Bobby sighed and then leaned all the way into him, head dropping into the crook of Johnny's neck. "Nah, man..." he chuckled, the laugh a warm rumble against Johnny's skin. "I mean, you are. But..." he moved one hand off the desk, sliding it into Johnny's back pocket. "I kinda just want you to be wherever I am, too."

Johnny's heart swelled with it. He actually couldn't believe how fucking lucky he was right now. He'd been all wrapped up in this crush for so long: trying to deny it, trying to stifle it, struggling to understand it, figure out what he was supposed to do... and it turns out, this entire time, Bobby had felt the same way. The boy he liked liked him back.

And it was all out in the open now: no more secrets, no more lies. What an amazing feeling, to finally be so honest without any fear. For the first time in his life, Johnny actually felt lighter in a _real way._ Not just for a little while; a way that he knew would last.

Bobby smiled up at him sheepishly, and Johnny had absolutely no choice but to kiss him again. Deeper and more passionate this time, letting Bobby push him against the desk, burying a hand in that thick, lush head of hair just like he'd always dreamt of doing.

"...I, uh... I can still be your wingman... whenever you wanna try to score some of those hot college babes..." Johnny said breathlessly once Bobby finally pulled back for air. "Help you show off those famous Bobby Brown moves..." There wasn't a whole lot of oxygen going to Johnny's brain, so he was probably just spewing nonsense right now.

Bobby cut him off with another kiss, free hand at the back of his neck to pull him in. "Shut up, dummy."

"Okay," Johnny said, and kissed him back.

_~End~_

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Whew! Heck of a journey. Thanks so much for reading, everyone — and a HUGE thank you to anyone who commented, you guys are amazing!!
> 
> If you loved reading this story as much as I loved writing it, then please consider supporting this ship by creating some Bobby/Johnny content of your own!


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